


the things that are beyond us

by writerblender



Category: Midnight Special (2016), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossover, Found Family, Gen, M/M, happy is a ... subjective term xoxo, this is just a fic about gay yearning and cults and found family but also aliens? enjoy!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerblender/pseuds/writerblender
Summary: ”Is this your friend?” She asks.Nicky looks directly into Joe’s eyes. “I hope so.”[or, it's exactly what it says on the tin. the 'the old guard' and 'midnight special' crossover nobody asked for.]
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	the things that are beyond us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grewuptobestardust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grewuptobestardust/gifts).



There is a knock at Joe Al-Kaysani’s door, and he almost doesn’t answer it.

No one knocks on the state trooper’s door at two in the morning, and his neighbors are not the friendly type. Still, as he wipes the sleep from his eyes, the room lit by the dull light of whatever infomercial blares on the screen of his small TV, he can hear his mother chiding him now. Someone could need help, and he’s more than capable of handling himself if something is wrong.

He doesn’t give himself any longer to think about it, only pausing to tuck his gun into the back waistband of his jeans, before he opens the door.

What’s on the other side of the door nearly kills him, then and there, with shock alone.

It’s Nicky.

It’s been fourteen years since Joe had seen him last, a blurry glimpse of Nicky’s face in the backseat of his parents’ car, but Joe would recognize him anywhere. He always knew he would, but this proves it. Despite their age — Nicky’s hair is a little longer now and he has a beard — Joe knows him. Even in death, he thinks, he would know this man.

That’s when the girl steps out from behind Nicky’s legs. She’s no older than nine, wearing a pastel pink raincoat and matching rubber boots. She knocks off her hood with her free hand, the other clutched tightly in Nicky’s, and Joe knows it, there and then. It’s the same mousy brown hair, neatly braided down her back, and bright blue eyes. She's Nicky's; there's no mistaking it.

”Is this your friend?” She asks.

Nicky looks directly into Joe’s eyes. “I hope so.”

...

Joe could never tell Nicky no, especially when they were young. Wherever Nicky went, Joe would follow. It wasn't a question; it just felt right.

Joe lets them in without protest and Nicky’s daughter, Alton, takes a seat on his couch instantly. She seems mostly preoccupied with the TV, even with the boring infomercial background, so Joe takes Nicky's hand into his, doesn't even question it, just does, and leads him into the kitchen. Sitting there, across the table from Nicky, their hands still intertwined over the plastic countertop, Joe can almost forget Alton in the other room. It almost feels like fourteen years ago. The Ranch, his life, everything almost fades away. But Joe knows that's too good to be true.

Over the next hour, Nicky tells Joe about the Ranch. How he was assigned to a young girl named Ilsa and how he’d always been honest with her. She’d respected him and his loss, which, when Joe realizes is about _him_ , makes his bones ache with want, and how everything had been fine until Merrick insisted they show the results of their marriage. While painful, Nicky had agreed to raise their child no matter the circumstances, but ultimately didn’t have much a say in the matter. Ilsa had died during childbirth, and the Ranch had taken to raising Alton as their own. Nicky hadn’t been alone with her like this since the last 24 hours. When Joe asks why they left, what brought them here, Nicky dances around the topic, saying they had to protect Alton and her gift.

”What gift?” Joe sputters. “What does that mean?”

From on the couch, Alton looks up from the comic book open on her lap. Joe doesn’t mind; he’s had them splayed out on his coffee tenor for months. He’s been meaning to clean them up, to give them to the kids at the local youth center, but he’s happy they’ve at least found a home now. He hadn't realized she'd been listening, but he finds he can't fault her for that. Comic books and infomercials are only so entertaining.

”Show and tell?” Alton asks, and Nicky nods.

Alton stands, setting the comic book carefully on the couch next to her, still open to her most recent page, and walks to Nicky's side. She takes a long, deep breath and holds her hand out, palm up, for Nicky to take.

Then, before Joe can stop him, Nicky takes a pocket knife from his pocket and slices her palm open.

"No!" Joe cries, state trooper training kicking in without a second thought. He drives his shoulder into Nicky's chest, causing Nicky to lose his grip on the knife and stumble away from Alton. Joe kicks the knife across the room, watching as it skids to a stop just under his refrigerator. Good riddance, he thinks. He bends down to Alton next, taking her small hand into both of his. "Are you okay, _habibi_? It'll be —."

"Joe," she says softly, and that's when Joe notices that she's not screaming. She's not crying. She's not upset in the slightest. She's not even wincing in pain, even as Joe presses down hard on the wound on her hand. "Look." She pulls away from his grip, and he lets her. When she opens her palm, lifting her hand to be eye level with him as he kneels in front of her, the skin is completely healed over. There's a bit of blood left around her fingers from when Joe held her fist closed, but despite that, there's no indication of what Nicky did only seconds ago.

"I-I don't understand," Joe mumbles softly, and from behind him, Nicky speaks up.

"You will."

...

Nicky, true to his word, does explain everything.

How about a year ago, Alton had been playing with other children at the Ranch and fallen out of the tree she'd been climbing in. She'd broken her arm in two places, but before the adults could even scramble to find keys to drive her to the hospital, they'd watched instead how her bones had righted themselves back into place and the skin healed over before their eyes. While they'd assumed it to be a miracle, their leader, Stephen Merrick, had other ideas. He'd figured this one-time miracle had to be something more, and he was right.

Merrick had been performing tests on Alton, progressively amping up in intensity, over the past months, always marveling in Alton's ability to heal herself. She'd even grown to help heal others if she was able to touch them, like a modern marvel. She had become their very own superhero, something straight out of the comic books she's now reading on Joe's couch. However, these new powers had quickly become dark sided; word had spread from the Ranch to local law enforcement, who suspected the Ranch of child abuse and had even more questions of their own, even going to the federal level. They had even tried to send a correspondent, some James Copley, to speak with Alton, but he'd been turned away before he could enter the Ranch.

Even worse, Merrick's experiments had only emboldened him to perform what he was calling his Final Sermon, where he planned to resurrect Alton from death. Though Nicky had been sharing custody with the rest of the Ranch over Alton, once he had heard of Merrick's plans, he'd snuck into the children's trailer, taking Alton in the middle of the night with only a stolen truck and the clothes on their back.

"But why here?" Joe finally finds the voice to speak, head spinning with information. "Why me?"

Nicky shrugs as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Where else would I go? I wanted to come home."

...

It takes Joe less than twenty minutes to pack up his life in a duffle bag, swap Nicky's stolen car into his garage for his beat-up truck, and disappear onto the freeway. He doesn't even call off of work tomorrow or leave a note for his family to find.

Why would he? He's only protecting his heart, sitting in the passenger seat beside him.

...

They stay in motels for the first few nights, quietly checking in once the sun breaks through the horizon and leaving only when it’s completely vanished yet again. Thankfully, the motel clerks don’t ask questions, just yawn at the early hours and hand Joe the keys, barely sneaking a glance at Nicky behind him, holding a sleeping Alton in his arms.

That is, until they’ve just crossed the border into Texas, and the radio cuts into an AMBER alert. It’s nothing new; they’ve been hearing the same warning every night on the news, police frantically looking for Alton and Nicky, under the guise that the Ranch could care about them.

Joe almost shuts the radio off, especially when Alton perks up from where she'd been previously sleeping with her head pillowed on Nicky's lap before he hears it.

The automated voice message rattled off their physical description, before his, and the exact make and model of their car.

”Shit,” Nicky swears once the alert is over, leaving them the car in silence. The radio perks up almost instantly to an 80’s pop ballad, and Joe slams the dial so hard it hurts his fingers. 

“What’s the matter?” Alton asks quietly. She’s moved from peering up at her dad to focusing her gaze on Joe, wide eyes frightened at his sudden outburst.

Joe thinks of the motel clerk, a young man in his twenties with a baby sleeping in a crib behind him. He thinks of the reward money offered for tips on them, and suddenly the anger in his systems flushes away.

”How far are we?” Joe asks Nicky, who has pulled Alton onto his lap. Nicky rummaged through the box at his feet, pulling out the night vision goggles Joe had insisted on bringing, and hands them to Joe.

”Two hours,” Nicky says after a pause, and Joe slows the truck only slightly to fix the goggles over his eyes.

The world around him turns bright and green, and with a single switch, the lights on the car go dark. Beside him, Alton gasps in surprise, her pink raincoat crinkling around her as she moves to be closer to her dad.

Nicky wraps an arm around her small frame, assuring her that everything is alright, and Joe’s grip tightens on the steering wheel.

...

The other set of headlights come out of nowhere.

Joe is blinded by the light that streams into the goggles; he only has time to reach out, throwing a protective arm over Alton who is sleeping between them, her head pillowed on Nicky’s lap, when the truck collides with another car.

The car spins once, to the other side of the road, and there’s the terrible sound of crunching metal and glass shattering and Alton screams once, and then nothing.

”Are you alright?” Joe is the first one to speak, ripping off the goggles to get a better look at Nicky and Alton. “Are you hurt?”

“We’ll be fine, Joe,” Nicky assures him. _Right_ , Joe thinks. _Alton and her magic powers_. Whatever minor injuries she or Nicky might have at the moment will vanish quickly; his concern now is the other car. He's worked enough cases as a state trooper to know this can only mean another report to the authorities. They should already be gone, tearing down into the night, but Joe can't help himself. He fumbles for the door, head still ringing slightly from the crash, and Nicky looks up from where he's been gazing at Alton intently.

"We need to go! Joe, what are you —?" Nicky starts to say, but Joe doesn't let him finish. He's already out of the car, sending Nicky a stern look through the closed window. He knows it's a risk, but it's one he's willing to take. 

When Joe rights himself, he realizes that the driver from the other car is already halfway out to meet him. It sends a bolt of relief through his chest; at least she's not _that_ hurt. He doesn't know what he would've done if they'd died. She’s a young woman, a bit shorter than him with dark skin and braids to her waist. There’s blood on her face.

”Are you alright?” Joe asks, already knowing the answer. His heart sinks; she's more hurt than he'd originally thought.

”Dizzy, she — I mean, that's my — my girlfriend is,” the woman says immediately. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem preoccupied with who’s fault the accident was. “She's in the passenger seat. I think she needs a hospital. I don’t — do you have a phone?”

”Joe,” Nicky calls. To Joe's dismay, he's now outside of the truck, only visible partially above the bed. Alton has clambered over the seats to peer out of the driver’s side window, which she has somehow managed to roll down on her own.

”They’re hurt, Nicky. Badly,” Joe calls back, and Alton perks up instantly at his words. She fiddles with the door handle, only to find it locked, and Joe thanks Nicky for his quick thinking.

”I can help!” Alton calls, brow furrowing as she grows more frustrated with the door and its child lock. There's the quiet sound of a few furious pulls on the door handle before Alton sits back on her heels, pout growing.

”Is your daughter okay?” The woman asks, and Joe doesn't know how to answer right away, so struck by her kindness in this situation. He knows the pause is too long — it only makes him look more suspicious — and quickly fumbles to recover.

“Yeah, she's fine. I’ll give you my information,” Joe lies, “and my phone is just in the truck, we can call —.”

Then, like some horrific nightmare, Joe sees the flash of red and blue in the corner of his vision. He can only turn and watch as a police cruiser pulls up onto the shoulder, flashing its lights as a quick warning of its arrival, and Nicky taps on the side of the car impatiently. 

“Joe, _now_ ,” he calls.

"Someone's hurt," Joe counters just as heavily, and he sees the woman's eyes narrow at him. He should've stayed in the car. They should've been gone before she could have even stumbled outside of hers. Joe takes a step back toward the truck, hearing Nicky sigh in relief, and watches as the woman only grows more concerned with each passing second.

”Are you guys in some sort of trouble?” The woman asks, gaze flickering from the car to Joe. When her eyes land on Alton, still observing everything from the front seat, Joe can see everything click together in her mind. She might not have the exact details, but she's got the right idea. “Is that your daughter?”

”Of course, she’s my daughter,” Joe lies, stepping forward to cut the woman off as she steps toward the car. "My husband and I are just —."

”Are these men your dads?” The woman asks Alton directly, and Alton blanches in fear. She scrambles back, further from the open window, and the woman turns to look back at him.

"Sweetheart, it's okay. You can come with me. I'm not gonna hurt you. My name's Nile," the woman assures her, side-stepping Joe's attempts to keep her away from the car, and there's a flurry of movement as Nicky moves. Alton scrambles further away from Nile until she's pushed up against the passenger side door. Nicky is silhouetted in the window, ready to grab her and run if needed.

“What's going on here?" The officer's voice cuts through the night as she rushes from the cruiser to the young woman's car. She's young, with squared shoulders and shaved head. Her badge reads Jordan; she's a rookie if anything.

"They're hurt," Joe supplies. If he can be quick, they can get out of this. No one knows he's missing; he can still convince them with his state trooper's badge. He can lie, say they'll drive themselves to the hospital, and lose them on the way. "They're going to need an ambulance."

The officer nods, already moving back to her car to call it in, and it seems that the police presence has distracted Nile from their car, if only for the moment. If Joe can just keep this up for a few more minutes —.

Joe watches then, as the officer looks over her shoulder to double-check their vehicle, and recognizes it immediately from the police report. She turns to look at him, only to find the barrel of Joe's gun greeting her.

"Get back in your car," Joe warns carefully. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Joe!" Nicky yells. When Joe spares a glance in his direction, he sees his gun is drawn over the bed of the truck, also aimed at the officer. "We have to get her out of here."

"Get back in the car," Joe warns again. "Please."

The officer reaches for her gun, and Joe's heart drops.

Two gunshots cut through the night air, and Nile screams, curling away and crouching from the officer defensively. Joe expects the bullet to hit him but watches instead as the officer crumbles to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. When he turns, Nicky is already moving to shove his gun back into his jeans.

Joe doesn’t have time to reprimand Nicky now; he runs forward to the officer, reaching down to check their pulse. It’s there, strong and steady, but the officer doesn’t move when Joe shakes her. He moves quickly, unbuttoning her coat, only to reveal a bulletproof vest underneath. His chest floods with relief, cool and sweet, when he realizes she’ll be alright. The force of the blow must have knocked her head against the squad car, rendering her unconscious, but she’ll live. Nicky hasn’t just added murder to their list of wanted offenses.

”Hey!” Joe calls to Nile, who is standing against her car, staring at both of them with wide eyes. “I need you to go into that car and call this in, okay? Say you were in a car accident and there was an officer injured.”

”Yeah, like they’ll believe a word I say," she huffs, her eyebrows raising as if to ask if he's serious with his demand, and Joe sighs. She's right; he'd only be putting her in more danger leaving her in a situation like this. He leans over to the radio on the officer's shoulder and waits for the signal to speak. He details as much as he can as quickly as he can, being sure to mention that the officer down is responsible for two men fleeing the scene.

“There,” Joe huffs, standing. “Just stay here. Help is coming. You and your girlfriend will be alright.” Nile only nods, her eyes focused on the gun in Joe's hand. As much as he doesn't want to scare her, she's proven herself to be more than capable and smart in the few moments he's known her. He can't risk this, not when they're so close to freedom. ”I’m sorry,” Joe offers her, just before he steps into the car. 

Joe starts the car as soon as the door is shut behind them. There are no words exchanged between him or Nicky, just the low hum of the radio to keep them company as they disappear from the scene of the accident. Joe will have to go twice as fast to make it to the destination; they have to ditch the car or they'll never make it.

Alton is crying, big hiccuping gasps that cut through the drone of the car’s engine. “I’m sorry,” she weeps, clinging to Nicky as tightly as she can, small hands fisted in the back of his sweatshirt. “I’m sorry.”

Joe’s heart breaks, and he thinks part of it will never fully heal, stuck in that small backroad, with the girls who were just trying to help.

...

In a small plot of land in Arizona, James Copley finally sets foot onto The Ranch.

Stephen Merrick greets him at the door as if he were welcoming him to the pulpit. "James Copley, yes? It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." His Southern accent lays on thick; Copley doesn't need his CIA training to know he's hiding something much more insidious underneath it all. He thinks of that little girl, Alton, with the same big blue eyes as her father. He can see their wanted photo, practically seared into his mind and every TV screen in the country. He wonders if he's hunting the wrong man.

...

"Uncle Booker!"

Alton cries excitedly, waving to the blonde man from the backseat window as he guides them silently into his garage. Their lights remain off and judging by the quiet breath of the neighborhood around them, they haven't been spotted. Booker smiles when he sees Alton in the backseat, and Joe can tell that it's not an expression his face is used to wearing.

Once the garage door has closed behind them, Alton wastes no time in pulling the lock open on her door and tumbling out of the vehicle, colliding quickly with Booker's legs as she runs to hug him. Booker picks her up in one swift motion, resting her on his hip as she hugs him tightly.

"Oh, _mon fille_ , it's good to see you again," Booker hums, large hand on her back to steady her as she nearly rips herself from his grip to turn to look for Nicky.

Nicky and Joe have both gotten out of the car at this point, but neither has moved to get the bags in the trunk. The tension in the room is palpable, even to Alton, whose brow furrows as she stares at Nicky. Booker sets Alton back to the ground, clearly sensing the situation as it unfolds. Alton stays at his side, taking one of his larger hands in her smaller ones.

"Why don't I take her inside, _mon frère_? You are tired. I have one of the boys' — there's a room ready," Booker assures him. Alton gives him a disapproving stare as if to negate his statement, which is nothing but comical coming from her small form, and Nicky bends to press a kiss to her head before nodding at Booker. That's all it takes for the Frenchman to disappear inside with the young girl, and it leaves Nicky and Joe with the silence.

"Just say it, Yusuf," Nicky sighs, shutting the driver's side door softly.

" _Sebastian_?" Joe cries finally. "After he sold your group out? Put you all in danger?”

"He was lonely," Nicky reasons, voice small. "He has a wife. Three sons."

"I do not understand how you can forgive him," Joe huffs.

"Forgive him for what?" Nicky retorts, meeting his eyes over the hood of the trunk. For a moment, that's all there is, just a long look between old friends but something more. The moment that feels like forever ends with Nicky slamming the trunk closed with his and Alton's bag slung over his shoulder. "Doing anything for his children?"

...

Booker makes Alton a Lunchables set, which Alton is surprisingly thrilled about. She spends ten minutes excitedly assembling her little pizza, and Nicky thanks the small graces of Booker being a father in times like these. He may be a father himself, but he's not used to doing this. He has no experience, only raw love for Alton. He thinks that has to count for something.

Joe refuses to speak to Booker, even while Nicky puts Alton to bed in one of Booker's son's room. It makes the silence in the house unbearable, even when Nicky returns to the living room. 

"The boys' beds are too small," Booker says. He's closest to the hallway, staring down it as if he can't wait to run out of the room as soon as they let him. "You'll have to sleep on the couch. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Nicky assures him. "We're tired. Anything is better than the truck." It manages a short laugh between them, but the tension in the air is still heavy. Joe stares at them both from where he's seated on the couch, both hands curled into fists at his sides.

Nicky waits until Booker reads the room, as he's just about to turn down the hall and make his escape from the situation. 

"Do you miss it?"

Booker stops in the doorway but doesn't turn. Nicky takes it as a sign to press on. "Living on the Ranch?" Booker's head drops between his shoulders; Nicky can practically see the grief in his bones.

"You have no idea."

...

Nicky wakes up to Alton screaming.

He pulls himself from Joe's arms — doesn't even allow himself to consider how he got there, tangled in the other man in their sleep, and how much it felt like home — and nearly trips over his own two feet as he races down the hall, bursting through the door to Alton's bedroom. Booker is standing next to the bed, his hand grasped tightly in Alton's, while Alton sits up in bed, trying to pull her hand from his grasp and screaming her lungs off. 

Nicky moves for Alton at the same time Joe punches Booker square in the jaw.

Booker's grip on Alton releases instantly and he crumbles to the ground next to Joe, unconscious. Joe turns to help Alton, his foot stepping in something damp. When he looks down, the carpet is soaked with water, a plastic cup with Winnie the Pooh decorations rolling to a stop against the bedroom wall.

"It's okay, it's okay," Nicky is whispering, holding Alton close to his chest as she cries. She's no longer screaming, which Joe takes as a good sign, but she's still hysterical. "I'm here, _piccola_. I'm here. You're alright now."

"What happened?" Joe asks.

”She can only heal physical pain,” Nicky says, as Alton tries to curl herself in a tighter ball under his arms. “Broken bones, things like that. Nothing emotional. Not him.”

...

Alton is sitting at Booker's kitchen table, uneaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of her on the table, when Joe scoops her up in his arms and announces that it's time for them to leave. Alton wraps her arms around his neck, smiling sadly at him.

"I didn't mean to hurt Uncle Booker," she says softly. Her lower lip wobbles and Joe holds onto her a bit tighter. Whether it's to assure him or her, he's not sure. "I was just trying to help."

Joe doesn't say anything after that, just hands her the sandwich from her plate before he takes her out to Booker's work van, thinking the whole way about how all they've been trying to do is help when in reality, all they've done is hurt too. He thinks those words are pretty easy to confuse, even in action.

...

Nicky lingers behind in the house, instructing Joe to take Alton to the car and that he'd be right behind the both of them. It's a lie, but both he and Joe know it. He's thankful for small graces like that, something that comes so easy with their relationship, even after all these years. 

Booker is seated on the floor of his bedroom, hands tied behind his back with a pair of his son's sneaker laces. They'd tied the door to his bedroom shut with the other set; it's a cruel move on their part, but Joe couldn't think of anything else in the panic of the moment. Nicky had tried his best to not think of it. They only had to subdue Booker for a few hours before they were on their way.

"Is Alton alright?" It's the first thing out of Booker's mouth since he and Joe had dragged his unconscious form into the bedroom. "I didn't touch her, Nicky, you have to believe me."

"You knew better."

"We're brothers, Nicky. Please."

"You know where we're going."

"Nicky, please," Booker begs. "She was in the kitchen. She was thirsty. She couldn't reach the shelves. Adèle makes me put the glasses higher up, so the boys can't knock them over. I was just trying to help."

Nicky thinks of Booker's boys, how broken he'd been when Adèle had taken them with her. They were his world. They still are, judging by the state of his home. There are still toys scattered about the living room, their favorite cereals in the cabinets, their sheets freshly washed. It would be cruel to take him from them now.

"You have no idea," Booker finally breathes, head hanging in shame. "The Ranch." Nicky's heart twists; Booker had always been the best of them there. The Ranch had been his family. He'd given up one for another. He'd weighed his losses and found them equal; he's been suffering since the day Adèle left. "You have _no_ idea."

The terrible truth is, Nicky doesn't. Leaving the Ranch to protect Alton and find Joe had been the easiest decision of his life.

"We're taking your van." 

...

It takes a little less than a day in Booker's van to get to Andy's house.

Andy is waiting for them with the door wide open.

Joe thought Alton's reaction to Booker was excitement, but it pales in comparison to her now. Alton practically leaps from her seat in the car, unhappily forced into the backseat with the switch of cars, and races to Andy's open arms with a shriek of pure joy. Nicky winces at the loud noise, looking around the neighborhood to make sure they haven't alerted anyone of their presence, but his anxiety quickly dissolves when he sees Andy scoop Alton into her arms, spinning the young girl around excitedly.

When Andy sets her back down, she places a gentle hand on Alton's chin, forcing the young girl to stare up at her. "Now don't tell anyone about that, okay? They'll think I'm getting soft."

Alton tries to nod as seriously as she can, but the giggle still breaks through. Andy only ruffles her hair for her troubles, assuring her to go inside and find the present waiting for her there. That's all it takes for Alton to disappear into the house, and Nicky takes this time to approach Andy. The two hug for what feels like forever to Joe, quiet words exchanged between their embrace.

Joe knows it means nothing. He does. Nicky's heart would never be hers, but the image still manages his heart twist. From where he's seated, leaning against the truck that isn't his, Nicky and Andy look like the perfect parents. Add Alton, and they're the perfect family. Joe was never a part of that, no matter how much he dreamed himself to be, no matter how much he'd fooled himself into believing that in the past few nights.

Nicky looks back, just before Andy ushers him inside. Joe waves him along; there's no one looking for him here. Joe watches them step over the threshold, and Joe wonders how he could've ever believed there would be a part for him in a home that's already full.

...

"She's so big," Andy muses, watching as Alton creates a car out of the new Lego set Andy had purchased for her. Andy hadn't mused long about what to buy Alton, had just asked the store employee what she thought was best and bought the first set recommended to her. Luckily, Alton wasn't hard to please when it came to much of anything.

"It's been a long time since you've seen her," Nicky replies. Nicky had filled Joe in on the way about Andy; he's familiar enough with her to know that she and Nicky had been close friends at the Ranch, practically inseparable. Andy had left the Ranch a few years prior, on something Nicky only referred to as personal affairs, but Joe can make a good guess from the pictures of her and another woman framed within the house. He wonders where she is — if she feels as out of place as he does right now.

...

In a small Texas town, not even big enough to be on most maps, Quynh knocks on a red apartment door. 

She hears young boys yelling inside and a woman’s voice cutting over all of them, telling them to be quiet so she can hear. Quynh’s stomach sinks. She wasn’t supposed to be doing this. She was a translator before all this. She still is. She's not a murderer; she's just a woman who believes in others and wants to help them. She and Andy had joined the Ranch in hopes of a better life. They had truly believed what Merrick had preached, so long ago. She'd had faith, and look at where it's led her. Andy had fled, just as Adèle had when Jean-Pierre was born and they had tried to take him from her, to be raised communally as Alton had been. She'd been so embarrassed and betrayed by Andy's leaving, but now she only looks back and wishes she'd left that night as well. Now, Andy was hidden away somewhere in a town and a home just like this one.

Adèle looks the same as ever, strawberry blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder as she finishes yelling to Philippe, her eldest son, and smile gracing her features to greet the guests at her door. "Quynh?" She asks, smile faltering before disappearing completely. "K-Keane?"

"Where's your husband, Adèle?" Keane demands, shifting weight from foot-to-foot.

"I-I don't know," Adèle stammers. "He doesn't live here anymore."

Keane hums, low with disapproval, and steps past Adèle, who does her best to stop him from entering before he pushes her to the side. Quynh sees Phillipe down the hall freeze with his younger brother's sweatshirt sleeve caught, white-knuckled in his grip.

The door shuts behind her, and she knows that some of them will never walk through them again.

...

That night, once Alton and Andy have both fallen asleep, Joe finds himself seated with Nicky on Andy's couch, just like Booker's home only a few nights ago. There's so much unspoken between them, but Joe is too afraid to say any of it out loud. If he speaks it, if he makes it real, and Nicky doesn't feel the same way, he won't survive it. If he's done all this for nothing... he can't afford to think like that.

"I dreamt of you,” Nicky says, after what feels like forever, breaking the quiet between them. “Every night.” Joe risks turning to look at him, only to find Nicky is already staring at him. "That's how I knew where to go. Where to take Alton. They led me to you.”

Joe reached across the table, threading their fingers together, and it feels more real than any God or prophet Nicky has ever believed in.

...

They don't stay at Andy's house for longer than a night, but the trip throws their timeline off. They'll have to drive through the day, but the news has yet to catch up with their previous car swap. They should be safe, at least until they cross the border. Andy and Joe have busied themselves in prepping her Jeep for travel while Nicky gets Alton ready inside; the silence between them is heavy, but Joe has no intention of breaking it.

Andy seems to have other plans.

"Did Nicky tell you where he's headed?" She asks, and Joe stops fiddling with the parts of her car under the hood long enough to look at her while he answers.

"No."

"So, you have no idea where a complete stranger and his daughter, who he kidnapped, are going, but you're following them blindly?" Andy huffs. "Not very state trooper of you."

"Nicky isn't a stranger," Joe snaps. Andy's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the sharpness of his reply, but Joe doesn't let her sit on it for long. "We were... we grew up together. We were friends. Then one night, he was gone with his parents to the Ranch. I had to move on. Few days ago, he shows up at my door with Alton. I let them in; she showed me the trick of hers. What else was I supposed to do?"

"I had a friend too like that, back at the Ranch," Andy says. Joe's grip tightens on the tool in his hands. "I begged her to come with me. I wanted to start my life with her out here."

"it's not like that," Joe huffs. "We're just friends."

Andy laughs, and it cuts through Joe like a knife. He thinks of his and Nicky's conversation last night and wonders if Andy really was asleep on the loveseat next to them. He wonders how much she knows and how much she could've gathered from the way they moved around each other this morning. He thought it'd only been between them, something small, invisible, but still there.

"Nobody would cross the country and implicate themselves in a federal crime on a whim for just a friend."

...

In a small Texas town, not even big enough to be on most maps, Sebastian le Livre stumbles into his home from his garage, placing his brown bag of groceries onto the counter and taking a long drink from a can of his already opened six-pack.

”Booker,” the feminine voice cuts through the room, and Booker drops the can in shock. It spills over his shoes and his stomach falls with it, thinking of Alton and her cup of water only a few nights ago. “I’ve missed you, brother.”

Quynh stands against the wall, half-hidden by the shadows. She takes a long swig from the cup of water in her hand. Booker notices, with his heart in his throat, that it’s Alton’s cup from the sink.

At his table, where Alton had sat not so long ago, Keane thrums his fingers against the plastic top. Booker stumbles a step back.

“Where are they?”

"Gone," Booker breathes. "He didn't tell me where they were going."

Keane shakes his head, letting out a disappointed sigh, before he stands slowly, sauntering into another room, down the hall, and Booker takes a split second to consider pleading to Quynh for help or making a bolt toward the door. He knows this neighborhood better than they do; if he gets a head start, he can lose them both. Before he can make up his mind, however, Keane does it for him, and he's instantly thankful that he didn't burst down the door to freedom.

Keane steps back into the room and along with him, drags his youngest son, Jean-Pierre, into the room by his sweatshirt collar. Jean-Pierre struggles in his hold, weakly swinging at Keane's arm with both of his. His eyes are puffy and swollen, cheeks and nose still bright red, and there's an angry bruise across his forehead and temple. Booker staggers where he is, nearly falling to his knees and grabbing the counter for support. Jean-Pierre calls out for him, alerted to his presence by the pained groan Booker lets out upon seeing him, and Keane's smile doubles in size.

"Let's try that again."

...

Things have been going too well.

They all know this, in the back of their minds, but everyone is too afraid to say it out loud. They've holed up in a small motel, just outside of Alabama, and everyone is in good spirits, Alton most of all.

She'd woken up that morning in an unusually bright mood, and no one had had the heart to speak any of their suspicions, lest they ruin the energy around their group that morning. Things would be fine, Nicky assured himself, as they packed the last of their gear into Joe's duffle bags. It was just his fatherly instinct kicking in, making him more overprotective than usual. He's barely paying attention to Alton, overly dramatizing the night that Nicky took her from the Ranch, mostly listening to the harmonies of their voices as they talk.

“So you and your dad stayed up all night?” Joe is asking, and Alton is nodding, beaming, and taking Joe’s hand into her smaller one as he reaches for the door. “What was your favorite color in the sky, hm? Purple or pink or orange?”

Nicky thinks that there’s no color to express the scene before him or the sunlight that morning, even if Joe is trying his best to recreate it already, with the paints still stored in the back of a closet in his apartment.

It’s the last thought he has before Joe opens the door, and is shot straight in the chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what if i wrote an insanely specific crossover for my girlfriend featuring two movies they love :))) haha. what if.
> 
> i know no one will read this but that’s okay bc it is for the gf. hi babe 💞
> 
> as an explanation, in my head, i see it as: joe is lucas, roy is nicky, andy "is" sarah, copley is sevier, booker is elden, merrick is calvin meyer, keane is levi, quynh is doak, nile is her own character bc there's like ten people in midnight special, and kozak is agent miller. i made alton a younger girl oc bc it was just easier for me personally to write it that way and i didn’t want to make any of the guard... babies? sorry to jeff nichols. i physically do not know how to write a adult in an child’s body. i also had to change the dynamics of alton and their interactions and the plot to better fit the old guard. if u don't like that, oops. also, before y'all freak out, alton is a girl's name and also gender isn't real so eat my entire ass.
> 
> that explanation might be just more confusing but it all makes sense in my head. i’ve connected the dots there.
> 
> title is a quote from midnight special (2016, dir. jeff nichols)
> 
> this will make zero (0) sense if you haven't seen midnight special. oops! 
> 
> chapter 2 happens whenever god herself allows it.
> 
> you can find me talking about how great both the old guard and my gf are over on tumblr @ wndasmaximoffs


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